


Frivolity

by grelleswife



Series: Kuroshitsuji Role Plays [19]
Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Fluff, Found Family, Gen, Snowball Fight, Winter, servants just gotta have fun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:34:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28343976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grelleswife/pseuds/grelleswife
Summary: The Phantomhive household enjoys a carefree day in the snow.Written in collaboration with bapydemonprincess on Tumblr.
Relationships: Sebastian Michaelis & Ciel Phantomhive, Sebastian Michaelis & the Phantomhive Servants
Series: Kuroshitsuji Role Plays [19]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1730281
Comments: 2
Kudos: 40





	Frivolity

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was co-written in a role play with my friend bapydemonprincess; each of us contributed equally to the manuscript.

A snowball hurtles through the air, catching Mey Rin unawares.

“Gotcha!” yells the chef.

“EEE!” the maid squeals, her cries loud and echoing round them on this crisp, snowy day, and stumbles slightly backward. But she grins all the same, not hurt in the least, and glares despite her grin at her awaiting assailant.

“THAT’S NOT _FAIR_ BARD, I JUST GOT OUT ‘ERE, YES I DID, I WASN’T READY!”

But she snaps her eyes open just in time to hear the chef’s boots crunch in the snow as he rushes away to gather more, so the maid darts away herself, fast as lightning, and ducks behind the bushes lining the manor wall to grab up snow around there.

Bard smirks.

"All's fair in a snowball fight, Mey! Ya have to stay sharp and always be on th' lookout fer an ambush!" he hollers back.

So, Mey's lurking around the bushes, is she? Decent strategy, but a barricade only protects you until it's been breached—

Quick as thought, a frosty missile zings through the air, smacking Bard right in the face.

"Maybe _you're_ the one who oughta lookout, yes you are!" the maid taunts.

"Yer gonna pay fer that one, missy!" Bard retorts. Damn...he should've considered that Mey Rin's an expert sniper. The snowball's in his hand, ready and waiting, but Mey's hidden away in those blasted shrubs. Bard hastily ducks behind the trunk of a nearby tree, though not before another snowball grazes his arm.

And then a familiar pair of footsteps races towards them.

"Mey Rin? Bard? Where are you?" the gardener calls, his forehead scrunching up in confusion.

Unknowingly to each other, both Bard and Mey Rin start at the same exact time at Finny’s arrival. Immediately after, both servants get it in their head to coerce the gardener to come to _their_ side.

“Pssst, Finny, over ‘ere!” Mey hisses, peeking out of a bush and up at the gardener. “Come join me, quick, b’fore Bard throws another—”

“Oh, no yew DON’T!” Bard bellows (he can easily overhear her, since she’s not that far away), and aims his snowball a bit sloppily at the maid’s face, without thinking about the details.

Finny yelps and staggers, eyes wide.

“Mey Rin!” he cries.

“Ferget ‘er, Finny, get over ‘ere!” Bard shouts at the boy, while still not daring to peek out himself.

“E’S WITH ME, YES ‘E IS, BARD! ‘E’S CLOSER AN’ ‘ES ALWAYS LIKED ME MORE, SO THERE!” Mey rambles, not really thinking about her words, just trying to get her point out. Meanwhile, she also looks across the way in the general direction of that tree she knows Bard is using as a shield, but only from over the very top of the line of bushes with her keen eyes.

“U-Uh, n-no...I don’t like you more than Bard, Mey! That—that’s not right to say!” Finny protests, gloved hands clenched.

“YEAH, MEY, LISTEN TO THE MAN! ‘E KNOWS WHERE ‘E STANDS!” Bard chips in foolishly right after. Then, pride overcoming his instincts to stay safe, he steps out from behind the tree to proudly point a thumb at himself.

“Wiff me,” he declares, eyes closed.

And gets promptly smacked in the face with a cold, stinging ball of snow, as sharp as a bullet.

“ARGH GODDAMMIT! THASSIT!” the chef roars. He runs off to make as many snowballs as he can, forgetting their argument about Finny altogether.

Finny overhears Mey scrambling in the bushes to gather up more snow herself.

The boy frowns, quickly running away from the action...but not TOO far.

He gets an idea!!!

Next thing the maid and chef know, BIGGER SNOWBALLS are being flung from a new quarter, as the gardener has used his speed and strength to pack them and turned the clotheslines standing out in the yard into homemade slingshots.

“What the actual _HELL_ are you lot doing out here?! Recreating the Battle of Megiddo?!” comes a commanding, angry roar from the kitchen door.

Sebastian had gone to the kitchen to review tonight's dinner preparations with Bardroy and confirm that they had enough ingredients for the menu he'd meticulously planned. Instead, he'd arrived to find the chef nowhere in sight, and his ears had been assailed by childish shrieking and the _whoosh_ of snow thrown every which way.

He glowers at the three miscreants: Mey Rin, who emerges from behind the dense bushes, tiny snowflakes clinging to her glasses; Bard, whose face is so covered with the stuff that he might pass for white-bearded Saint Nicholas; and Finnian, who has already prepared fresh ammunition—snowballs the size of a grown man's head, stacked at his feet. All of them shrink back and look at the butler with the imploring guilt of mortals who have been caught red-handed. None answer his question.

"Don't make me repeat myself," the demon snaps. Why are they frittering away their time on whatever _this ruckus_ is supposed to be?

"Um...we were having a snowball fight, Mr. Sebastian," Finny timidly replies.

"'S my fault, Mr. Sebastian. I started the whole business by lobbin' one at Mey," Bard says with an awkward grin.

"But I kept it up, yes I did!" Mey Rin wails, hiding her face behind gloved hands.

"Really, this isn't how Phantomhive servants should comport themselves! The young master certainly didn't hire you to frolic about like ill-bred ragamuffins," Sebastian chides. He's so caught up in his tirade that he doesn't notice Finny pick up a snowball from his pile.

"But it's lots of fun, Mr. Sebastian! Why don't you come play with us?" he chirps. And before the horrified Mey Rin and Bard can stop him, he hurls his snowball at the butler.

The butler collapses in the doorway, half his form lying inside the kitchen, snow scattered every which way on the floor, the other half lying out on the steps, his long legs splayed elegantly.

The servants stare a moment longer...before Bard and Mey Rin find themselves overcome with an awful case of the giggles at the sight before them, and scramble to turn away and cover their mouths.

Oh, but it's far too late...

Neither of them observes the odd sizzling noise, and steam beginning to rise up...from none other than the pile of snow covering the head butler.

“U-Uh... guys...” Finny tries to warn them, starting to shake, as the shadow of a tall form rises up in front of him...

“You want _me_ to come _play_ with you?” Sebastian Michaelis asks, his voice riddled with a strange growl only heard on rare occasions when the butler has truly, finally reached his limit on being _nice_.

And at once Bard and Mey Rin are locked in place, still turned away, eyes popping out and sweat running rapidly down their faces despite the chill around them.

They do not dare turn back to face what will await them in the kitchen doorway.

“U-Um...i-it’s okay,” Finny bravely stammers out, now being the lone victim facing this fiend, “Y-You don’t have to i-if you don’t want to...M-M-Mr. Sebastian...”

“Oh, now, now, why _wouldn’t I_? After all, it’s certainly not as if I have _better_ things to do...and perhaps taking up the offer shall prove useful...in _giving you lot a PROPER LESSON_.”

Finny yelps, instinctively running for cover somewhere in the back yard of the estate, and on cue the other two trembling servants finally find the gall to whip around and gauge their butler’s condition.

Oh. Oh dear.

He’s already wielding—not one, not two, not even _three_ or _four_ —but **EIGHT** LITTLE BALLS OF SNOW between the gloved fingers he holds up on display, much like the way he brandishes his _KNIVES_!!

The chef and maid shriek in alarm, and hurry off to hide. 

Only to find themselves _painfully pulverized_ from the back by the little tight balls of snow, and collapsing in heaps similar to how the butler had a second ago.

“Oh, I’m sorry, is that _too much_ for you to handle now?” he croons, still on the steps by the door.

Bard growls to himself, pounds a fist in anger next to him in the snow, and then continues trying to rush off.

Mey Rin whimpers, quickly sitting up, scrambling for her glasses in the snow, and snapping them on top of her head (in preparation for the serious sniping the maid will have to do). She, too, dashes for cover.

These servants may be servants, but they are also **soldiers**. Now facing off against their own commanding officer.

And well, if that’s how it’s gotta be...

**“ _That’s what makes a Phantomhive servant,_ ”** they whisper to themselves, as they hide and prepare a counterattack.

Sebastian's eyes dart to and fro, assessing each servant's location and the quantity of snow available in the vicinity. Finny's crouched down somewhere to his left...Bardroy's straight ahead...and Mey Rin's standing motionless behind a tree. If he were saddled with pedestrian mortal limitations, Sebastian might have difficulty spotting them. But he's not, and thus he hears the crunch of snow as Mey Rin imperceptibly shifts her foot, sees the frosted air that swirls from Finny's mouth like a dragon's breath. The demon gathers more tiny (but hellishly effective) snowballs, and advances forward.

"Come now...why so shy? You were quite eager to spar with one another a few seconds earlier," Sebastian purrs. The servants are on tenterhooks as he makes his approach. Which of them will break first?

Impetuous Bard, always one for the quick, decisive solution, finally cracks. He hurls a snowball at the butler with every ounce of his strength—but Sebastian easily dodges, and retaliates with a few well-aimed snowballs of his own.

" _Shit!_ " Bard curses as he ducks for cover.

Hoping to land a hit while Sebastian is distracted, Mey Rin lobs a missile at the butler. Again, he avoids it without breaking a sweat, and the maid ends up with a faceful of snow.

Bard swears under his breath and frantically motions Mey and Finny closer. They need to work together against a common foe, especially when their opponent is Mr. Sebastian. The trio send a flurry of snowballs towards the butler, but none of them makes a hit! Sebastian turns to a dark blur as he evades their attacks, which he returns with gleeful ferocity.

"Are you ready to surrender?" he smirks.

"Never!" Bard roars back, even as more of the deadly miniature snowballs send him reeling backward.

Mey Rin's keen eyes go wide. Bending down next to Bard's ear, she whispers, "We gotta keep his attention on us, yes we do!"

Bard frowns and opens his mouth to ask what she means, but Mey puts a finger to her lips.

"Just trust me!"

And while the three servants keep up their losing battle with Mr. Sebastian, the demon is completely unaware of the elderly man creeping stealthily towards him, a snowball at the ready.

Sebastian grins despite himself, practically baring fangs in his delight, and his pale, angular cheeks take on a spot of color as he is too focused on this to protect himself from the Earth’s natural chill.

“Why don’t you get out here and face me...one on one! We can settle this and...carry on...”

His voice trails off at the end, however, as he suddenly notices...he...can’t detect _any_ of the servants anymore! What the devil is going on? He stretches out his keen immortal senses, and yet there is no sign.

What trick could this be?? The trained soldier might have figured out a way to truly hide himself, or the assassin, who’d evaded Sebastian when she’d first visited Phantomhive manor, and almost snuffed out the life of his contracted soul.

As for Finny, the young boy _is_ swift as a deer, so the demon wouldn’t put it past him to use that to his advantage, and speed up, running around, to keep the butler from catching his scent. 

However, whatever they _are_ doing is even sneakier than the demon would anticipate, for he still senses absolutely NO human life around him, nor... 

_Any_ life whatsover.

_Shit. What the HELL is this?!_ the demon thinks to himself, eyes going pure red, pupils shrinking, as he whirls about, trying to find ANYONE or ANYTHING.

But no, it’s…it’s as if everyone has vanished except him.

And...and…that doesn’t feel right!

“Bard? Mey? Finny?? You lot are...still here, yes?” he calls, then grits his teeth at the waver in his voice, face flushing.

“This has gone on long enough,” he continues. “We can either do one more face off, or just call it a day and head in. We...we _do_ have more important tasks to—”

_Whoosh_

The demon perceives a glimmer of energy nearby, clearly trying to get the jump on him, but…but he cannot TELL for some ungodly reason if it’s one of his humans, or, an intruder, or a _beast_!

And suddenly...the demon butler feels as if...perhaps...

**_He_ ** **is being hunted by something.**

Sweat pours from his brow, though Sebastian still feels the chill, but his senses are far too focused on finding this thing and ENDING them to care. His teeth lengthen further, he barely prevents his hands from becoming claws, and his already narrow pupils shrink to the thinnest lines in his ruby gaze.

_“Where are you?”_ he growls, making his voice demanding and as threatening as he dares. In fact, he drops the balls of snow, and reaches for his knives.

He just can’t risk it now. This game is no longer a game. His opponent has changed drastically, whoever they are.

But that doesn’t mean he plans on losing.

“If I can’t hold up against a new, stealthier enemy in the dead of winter, then—”

“Then what kind of butler would you be?” a familiar voice chuckles, _right behind him_.

Sebastian Michaelis yelps and jumps high into the air, whirling and stumbling backwards and almost dropping his butter knives.

Tanaka stands there, hands held behind his back, and he grins merrily at the startled butler.

“Ho ho! My apologies, Sebastian, I merely came out to see if you were well…since I was expecting to see you in the kitchen at this time, cooking, not out here in the snow, play-fighting with the others!”

His voice is calm and wistful as always, gently teasing.

And Sebastian practically shrinks on the spot, quickly righting himself, and dusting himself off.

“A-Ah well...that _was_ what I had intended to do, but as you can see the other servants had _different_ plans and dragged me down to their level in this nonsense to—er— _play_ with them.” 

He sniffs and shakes his head, eyes closing.

“Really, all I could do at that point was try to teach them a lesson so we could hopefully carry on with the jobs we were _meant_ to do.”

As soon as Sebastian concludes his explanation, the former butler and steward is chuckling again, and the demon has an inkling he is _still_ being teased.

“Are you certain about that, Sebastian? After all, from what I could tell you looked as if you were having fun joining in with their game a minute ago! Ho, ho, ho!”

Gritting his teeth and flushing red once more, the butler raises a hand, finger pointed in the air for emphasis.

“Er—that’s NOT—”

But he cannot get another word out, for Tanaka suddenly takes his right hand out from behind his back and SMACKS Sebastian Michaelis in the face with a fresh, cold ball of snow.

Simple as that.

“Lighten up now, Sebastian! There’s no need to take _everything_ so seriously around Christmas! Ho, ho, ho!”

And suddenly all the others are popping up from hiding spots, CHEERING and CLAPPING.

"You really did it, Tanaka! You beat Mr. Sebastian!" Finny exclaims, eyes shining with awe.

"Got him good, too!" Bard says, pumping his fist in the air.

"That was amazin', yes it was!" Mey Rin adds.

Sebastian wipes the snow from his face as best he can, shaking his head like a wet dog, but his raven locks are encrusted with white.

"I believe I understand...you three were distracting me from Tanaka, weren't you?"

Maid, chef, and gardener nod proudly, and the butler does the last thing they expect.

He laughs.

"Well, well," Sebastian chuckles, raising an eyebrow and giving them a rueful smile, "It would appear I made the grave mistake of underestimating our Phantomhive servants, and suffered the consequences."

Gracious in defeat, he bows to Tanaka, who responds with a benevolent, "Ho, ho."

The demon bends down lower to scoop up a snowball, and his smile acquires a wicked edge.

"But a Phantomhive butler cannot let his honor remain unavenged."

* * *

The young master scowls resentfully at the stacks of paperwork crowding his desk, which seem to taunt him with their tedium. He glances out the window, sighing from sheer ennui—and abruptly gets to his feet, rushing over to have a closer look.

"What the hell are they _doing_ out there?"

The earl squints and cranes his neck. The servants are having a bloody snowball fight, for God’s sake. Not just Bard, Mey Rin, and Finny, which he might expect, but Gramps, too, and even...

" _Sebastian?_ " he gasps.

If they keep up this ruckus, he shan't be able to concentrate on his work. He ought to go reprimand them and put an end their frivolity at once.

Yet he remembers happier Decembers, now lost forever, when Mother would bundle up his brother and him so that they could go out and play in the snow.

His hands clench into fists at his sides, as if he's preparing to combat an assailant that only he can see. Then the Watchdog takes a deep breath. Before he has time to change his mind, he rushes forth from the study.

* * *

Sebastian dances amidst the wind and snow, less preoccupied with winning than he is on the joy of feinting and leaping, of giddily hurling snowballs at his fellow servants (the spectacle of their happy, rosy-cheeked faces keeps him warm in spite of the frigid weather).

And then his back is struck with a soft _paff_. The demon spins around to catch who hit him, and gawps.

"Young master?" he stammers.

"Ooo, young master's come to join us, yes he has!" Mey Rin beams.

Standing on the kitchen steps is none other than Earl Phantomhive, grinning triumphantly even as he shivers in the cold.

"There's no reason why you lot should have all the fun to yourselves," he says, feigning an air of nonchalance that doesn't quite hide his youthful excitement.

Sebastian collects himself and strides forward. "But that's no excuse for neglecting to dress appropriately, my lord. You'll catch your death!" the butler scolds. He ushers the boy inside just long enough to outfit him in proper winter gear—including sturdy boots, a woolen cap, scarf, mittens, and a nice thick coat. When the demon and his young master re-enter the fray, Sebastian hoists the boy onto his shoulders.

"We wouldn't want your diminutive height to interfere with your ability to play."

"You bastard," the earl mutters. However, he doesn't order Sebastian to put him down, and as the butler hands him a snowball to throw at Tanaka, his dour little mouth turns up in a smile.


End file.
